Starting Now
by xKayx
Summary: House's new team begins work for him needless to say, they get more than they bargained for blackouts, shirtlessness, and boozeoffs? Ultimately Remy Hadley Thirteen and House romance. Some Chase/Cameron.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a look at the 3 fellows' starts under Greg House - Lawrence Kutner, Remy Hadley, and Chris Taub. I might include some romance if I feel inspired ;)

Read, Review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own House or anything at all House-related. But I wish he was mine 

6:00 AM. Remy Hadley's alarm clock interrupted her slumber. She rolled over, effectively shutting it off, and glanced out the window. A glimmer of rosy sunshine was beginning to appear above the horizon. Remy, commonly known as "Thirteen", was slightly reluctant to start off her Monday- She had never liked the first of work. It always involved the monotonous explaining, tours, and corrections. People would always stare at her longer than necessary, as if to inquire, "Do you belong here?"

Frankly, she never felt like she belonged herself.

Thirteen stepped in the shower. Shower in the morning- especially during winter- was also particularly irritating. The water would be warm and comforting, but you would just as soon have to get out and confront the cold.

Remy wondered what to wear on her first official day. She considered a dozen or so potential outfits, but chickened out and ended up choosing her staple black slacks and a white shirt. Frustrated that she couldn't muster up the courage to show some skin for the first day, she unbuttoned an extra button of her white blouse. She didn't have the time or motivation to do anything with her hair, so she flipped and tousled it a few times before letting it hang in waves at her shoulders.

Remy sighed at her reflection one final time. Everyone thought she was so damn boring: with her conservative outfits, her lack of surface emotion, and the air of mystery around her.

It felt like an effort. Ever since Remy realized that she could have Huntington's disease, she detached herself from everyone she had ever gotten close to. She did this because she didn't want to form relationships when all it would lead to was her eventual demise. She didn't want to leave behind the people she loved when, or if, she died. At least, that's what she told herself.

Sometimes Remy decided that she was just terrified, and she didn't want to affect those around her either. So now she simply blended in. Maybe it was intentional, maybe it was subconscious. But now Remy tried everything in her power to remain enclosed within herself. That way, when she died, it would be as if nobody had ever been there.

That's how she wanted to leave the world.

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6:15 AM. Chris Taub hit his alarm clock repeatedly until it ceased its beeping. His eyes remained closed.

"Get up, Chris," His wife muttered beside him.

Taub grunted in response and reluctantly got up.

He stepped into the shower, annoyed and half-asleep. He hated waking up so early…He never had to wake up this early when he was in plastic surgery.

Taub still had reservations about this new job- after all; he was making far less money than he ever had at his previous job.

He knew that House had gone to his old workplace and found that Taub had quit for "personal" reasons. How much had House managed to discover?

The truth was that Taub had an affair with someone at his old job. That was reasonable, though. What was unacceptable to him was that his feelings for the woman, Sheryl, had grown- they were in love. Unfortunately, Taub could not find another choice. He decided that their love was only temporary (being the cynical masochist that he was) and that nothing good would come out of changing his life for a woman.

So Chris Taub quit his job and cut off all contact with Sheryl.

His wife was never oblivious to her husband's suspicious behavior, but she chose to ignore it. After all, she had a large house, an ample amount of money, and all the prestige she needed. If her husband fooled around with someone else occasionally, she was shallow enough to overlook it. His wife was not aware of how deeply involved Taub had been with Sheryl; but nevertheless, he was starting over with House.

"I'm leaving honey," Taub called.

"Ok. See you later." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Taub smiled for her benefit as he left. The smile never entirely reached his eyes.

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6:35 AM. Lawrence Kutner took a double take. Crap, why hadn't his alarm gone off? He raced out of bed, threw off his clothes while advancing down the hall, and scorched himself hurriedly in the shower.

He couldn't believe it: his first official day of work and he was already in a rush.

Kutner threw on a pair of khakis that he had salvaged from the floor and a collared shirt. Only as he ran out the door did he notice the stain on the front of it. Aw well. The lab coat would cover it.

As the young doctor began his drive to work, (slightly above the speed limit) his energy took a hold of his racing mind.

_You're going to get fired…and you haven't even gotten started._ He admonished himself.

_And you won't blow up anything today…or set anything on fire. You're __**not **__going to screw up Lawrence._

Kutner ruffled his textured hair into submission with the rear-view mirror at a red light.

A mixture of nerves and electricity shot through him as he drove up to PPTH. He was ten minutes late, but that hardly mattered. Kutner knew House would not be making his first appearance for at least another hour- no matter the occasion.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's the second chapter! If you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them because I'm willing to be flexible with this story. R &R please!

[oh, and in this story Cam and Chase are broken up.

Disclaimer: Maybe they'll be wrapped under my Christmas tree?

"So who do you think he hired?" Cameron asked Chase, sipping her coffee.

Chase strode down the hallway alongside his ex-girlfriend.

"Well, I think he's left with Thirteen and Taub." Chase offered as they approached the conference room.

"Really," Cameron smirked, "That's funny because I think he took Amber and Kutner."

Chase shrugged, not being one for conflict. "Well we'll just see right now."

He opened the door, allowing the lady to go ahead of him.

Thirteen and Taub looked up from their inspection of a manila folder as House's former employees entered the room.

"Hmm. Looks like I was right," Chase smirked. Cameron rolled her eyes and advanced on the coffee machine.

"Last time I checked, you guys didn't work for House," Taub observed. "Miss him already?"

Cameron narrowed her eyes at the coffee machine in front of her. She had always found Taub quite rude and cold- but not in a good "House" kind of way.

"Well actually Cuddy assigned us to you guys for the day."

Chase nodded his head and sat down across from the new doctors. "Yeah. We'll be showing you around and introducing you to everyone in the department formally."

"Foreman's not getting the tour because he's been here for a while, obviously," Cameron added, fixing the second mug.

Chase furrowed his brow as he watched her. "You're not making that for…? Oh no," He breathed, insulted.

Cameron blushed, "Force of habit." She justified as she stirred House's coffee.

Kutner flew open the door to the conference room, attracting four startled faces. "Shit," He blurted, looking frantically back and forth from Cameron to Chase, "I'm not in trouble am I? Is House here yet?"

"Not yet," Thirteen replied, speaking for the first time that morning. Chase and Cameron turned to acknowledge her existence.

"'not yet' to which question?" Taub asked anxiously.

"Both." Remy clarified, the corner of her mouth resisting a grin.

Kutner raised his eyebrows, letting the door shut behind him as he sat down beside Remy to look at the file she held.

Before conversation could resume, Gregory House burst into the conference room, cane-first.

"Don't tell me the party started without me," He inquired, tossing his bag to the corner of the room.

Cameron strode to his side wordlessly, handing him the mug of coffee. He eyed her questioningly as he accepted it.

Chase explained that they would be showing his new "ducklings" around for their first day.

"Where does that leave me?" House asked, dreading the answer.

"Cuddy wants you in the clinic," Chase smiled.

"Guess she didn't hesitate in regaining the title of 'cut-throat bitch' once Amber was gone…" House mused unenthusiastically.

"Well, I'm flattered." Cuddy called from the doorway, her arms crossed across her chest.

Everyone's heads shot up at her presence.

"Oh, good!" House feigned excitedly, "You're just in time for the party."

"And you're just in time for-" But Cuddy was cut off when the light of the hospital was engulfed instantly in darkness.

"What the hell?"

"I can't see anything."

"I-I think the power went out?" Cuddy's voice rang out fearfully.

"Let me open the shades" Kutner's voice called eagerly.

"No, I'm closer," Cameron's voice reassured.

The sounds of shoes scuffing the ground were soon enveloped by a series of thuds, a tussle, and a string of obscenities.

"Get the hell off my leg!" House yelled into the pitch black.

"Ow…"

"Somebody's on my hair!"

As a mob of people struggled to entangle themselves from the floor, Thirteen began to crawl her way blindly from the others. From above her, she heard a male voice mutter "sorry," but he must have tripped because seconds later the unidentified male fell on top of her.

Remy groaned as a hard chest crashed against her own. A knee hit her leg- hard. _Was this a premonition of her days to come at PPTH?_ She thought.

"Shit, shit, shit… Sorry," the unmistakable voice whispered. He was close enough that she could feel hot breath on her own face.

_Kutner._

Lawrence lifted his chest off Remy and attempted to shift his knee, but a foreign leg descended on his back, and he landed back on top of her.

Remy moaned in pain once again.

"Thirteen?" He whispered above her. Maybe he attempting to place his hand down to push himself back up, but Kutner's hand made contact with Remy's cheek.

"That's my face," She explained flatly.

Kutner's head was spinning in circles from his coworker's intoxicating scent and the rising heat in her cheeks. Her breasts rose and fell faster, almost imperceptibly, under him. His hand remained where it lay.

Remy intended to shove the guy off of her, but her hands only made it to his chiseled chest before pausing.

They were completely motionless for a while, until perforated streams of lights cast themselves across the conference room abruptly.

"I got the blinds," Chase sighed, the only one who was still standing.

He gazed down at the scene before him: Taub had knocked over a plant, Cuddy had just banged her head against the side of a table, Cameron had fallen across House and Taub, and Thirteen and Kutner were locked in a compromising position on the floor. As soon as everyone blinked in the light, they struggled to remove themselves from each other and to stand up awkwardly.

_This is going to be one hell of a first day…_ Chase concluded, grinning.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I don't mean to have this be Thirteen/Kutner… so I took your suggestions and I'm going to even it out by Thirteen having "run-ins" with a few of the men in the hospital. Cuz she's such a stud. Hahha. I dunno. I change my mind a lot so I don't really know what's going to happen. So here we go- (more Taub in this chapter).

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. But it's my new year's resolution to get them :p

A group of doctors progressed swiftly through the halls of PPTH. Chase indicated to the next door: "and this is Dr. Wilson's office".

"Wait…" Chris Taub muttered, glancing at his pager, "I'm needed at the front desk." He ran off, not sparing a second look.

"Ok…" Chase idled.

"Hey, what's the parade for?" House asked, stepping out of Wilson's office.

"I'm tour-guide for the day," Chase replied, picking up stride down the hall.

House rolled his eyes. Of course Cuddy gave him clinic duty and gave Chase a freebie day to tow the new ducklings around.

"Uhh, Dr. Cameron?" Kutner asked hesitantly, catching up with the blonde. "Could you show me around the ER? I kinda forgot where everything was in there…"

"Sure," Cameron smiled politely.

"I'll show…Thirteen the surgical floor I guess," Chase said, walking off in the other direction.

House watched both pairs head in different directions and wondered who to stalk. After a few seconds of consideration, he limped toward the surgical floor.

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Taub froze when he saw her; in a moment of quick-thinking he tried to sprint back to the elevator. It was too late.

Sheryl called out his name and her heels clicked down the hallway after him.

Sheryl's face revealed to Taub a mixture of relief, grief, and contempt.

"Sheryl," he nodded absently.

"Chris," she hissed. "So this was your plan: to just quit your job and run away from me. I'm just a _problem_ to you aren't I?" She asked, hot tears burning in her eyes. "I'm just a problem that needs to be fixed."

Chris was ashamed, and didn't attempt justification of his childish actions.

"You know, the thing about plastic surgery is you can pretend to fix something on the surface, but it's still there inside," Sheryl concluded.

Taub watched his one true love's retreating form. She disappeared behind the doors of the hospital. He wondered if he would ever see her again.

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Robert Chase stood beside Remy Hadley in the balcony of OR 3. He sipped his coffee and observed the pretty brunette next to him: Her eyes were blank and her expression was at its usual unreadable state. House must be intrigued by her, no doubt.

She wasn't like Cameron.

Sure, they were both young, smart, and attractive, but Cameron was an open book. Cameron had direction, and she knew what she wanted. She wanted sex from Chase; she wanted love from House. It had always been as simple as that

Thirteen was different.

She was guarded, maybe even misguided.

While Cameron put up a soft front, Thirteen appeared cold and disconnected.

What was she hiding?

"Oh crap!" Chase yelled, spilling hot coffee on himself.

"Are you ok?" Remy asked, grabbing a handful of tissues from the table in the corner.

"Ow…It's burning," He replied through gritted teeth.

"Take off your shirt," Thirteen suggested flatly.

"What?" He asked incredulously.

She raised her eyebrow at him, suppressing a grin.

Chase complied and she helped him out of his lab coat.

Just as Chase was ripping off his scrub top, a man with a cane flung open the door to the viewing area.

He observed the scene before him. Remy and Chase had completely frozen.

"You lost your all-access pass to Cameron's love rug so now you're shagging the next girl who comes your way?" House announced irritably.

"No-no that's not what…" Chase put his scrub top back on and rushed out of the room. He wasn't going to deal with this.

Remy Hadley remained standing awkwardly with a fistful of tissues in her hand. She picked the newly empty coffee cup off the ground before addressing House.

"He spilled coffee on himself. I know better than to 'shag' on a first day of work."

_Oh._ House thought. Embarrassed that he had jumped to such rash conclusions, (even though Chase had been standing shirtless in front of Thirteen just moments ago) but mostly because he had gotten so upset.

He decided to cover it up.

"I know… I was just scaring him. I still got it," He smirked ineffectively.

"Sure," Remy replied, unconvinced.

"What, you think I was jealous?" House inquired, watching her pick tissues off the floor.

"Yeah, jealous because Chase looks better shirtless," Remy joked.

"Is that a challenge?" House asked.

Remy evaded his gaze as she finished cleaning up the mess. He could have sworn he saw a slight smile adorning her usually cold face.

"Why don't we ask Cameron for a review?" House hinted.

Remy frowned, despite herself. She had heard rumors about House and Cameron's relationship.

House was satisfied, even though the situation in which Cameron had seen him towel-clad in the locker room had been less than sexual.

"Or you could judge for yourself…" House offered.

Remy sauntered over to her boss with a twinkle in her eye. She rested her hands on his chest and allowed them to slide down before tilting her head.

She felt House's breathing speed up almost imperceptibly. She grinned at his unease.

Before reaching his hips, she turned and fled the room

"Kutner is better," She called over her shoulder.

House narrowed his eyes. _What the hell?_


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the day had passed by rather uneventfully, with the occasional awkward glance between coworkers and silent solitude from inner pain. Taub refused to talk to anyone after seeing Sheryl, Kutner's head was positively spinning from all the excitement, Thirteen remained uninterested, Chase avoided House, Cameron made her opinions on the new team, and House was…House.

As everyone was wrapping up for the day, Cameron made an announcement. "It's kind of a tradition that some of us from the hospital go out for drinks with any new employees. Are you guys up for it?"

Kutner agreed, of course. Taub was just itching to get plastered, so he complied. Remy was reluctant to expand any kind of relationships outside of work. She still had her inconsolable addiction to detachment, particularly from a group of people that she could actually see herself becoming friendly with.

"C'mon," Chase persuaded her, "Foreman drunk is the most memorable thing you will ever see in your life."

The prospect of a drunken Foreman was quite the catalyst.

"Ok, sure," She caved.

"Are you guys anti-cripple? Because I didn't get the memo," House said from the doorway.

All present stared at him skeptically.

"You _want_ to hang out with us?" Cameron choked.

"Whoa, let's not jump to conclusions now," House corrected, "Getting absolutely wasted and mooching off my coworkers doesn't exactly define 'hanging out'"

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Foreman, Taub, Kutner, Thirteen, Cameron, and Chase stood around the pool table in the bar, talking, laughing, drinking, and playing sloppy pool.

Kutner and Chase had a fierce discussion about hair products while Foreman and Taub discussed new technological advances in the medical field (Taub, refusing to talk about anything personal at the moment). That left Remy and Cameron standing idle and silent.

Cameron watched the younger doctor- she had barely touched her drink. Her brown hair cast about her face as her mind wandered elsewhere, probably past the confines of the mindless conversation surrounding her, into a world of her own perception.

Cameron cleared her throat, earning her a look from Thirteen.

"Uh, do you wanna play?" Cameron asked, gesturing to the pool table.

"Sure," Remy nodded, placing her drink on a nearby table.

Cameron watched the other woman play, enviously.

She could tap the balls effortlessly and gracefully. The colors flew across the table and rarely missed their mark. It was like a structured dance. On the other hand, Cameron would awkwardly stab at the balls, often scratching and achieving little force.

"I think I won," Remy offered lightly.

_Of course you did._ Cameron thought irritably. The blonde glanced at her drink, then back at Remy. She was so damn cool and collected- not to mention attractive. It pissed Cameron off to no end. House always tried to faze the girl with his remarks, but Remy never so much as flinched. Cameron, already slightly tipsy, decided to take her down a notch.

"Thirteen, What do you say we have a little competition?" She asked mischievously.

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Greg House entered the bar, feeling a bit unusual. It felt odd coming here when he was actually meeting people. Usually, his bar routines consisted of getting wasted and staggering home (but he almost always ended up in Wilson's car, his friend being too concerned).

House ordered a drink and made his way to where his coworkers were gathered around the pool table- and they had an audience. He pushed through the crowd to see that the action was centered around Remy and Cameron.

"Miss me?" House asked Chase as he broke through.

Chase was absolutely ecstatic, and answered, " Thirteen and Cameron are having a booze-off. We're taking bets."

It was then that House realized what was going on and looked at the two females. All around them, the bar-goers were yelling "Chug!" as Thirteen and Cameron downed shots of tequila.

"I put my money on Cameron," Chase added.

"Well isn't that loyal…" House muttered.

"Well either way, we win, because there's collateral,"

"What?" House asked disbelievingly. Cameron and Remy didn't exactly scream 'girls gone wild'…

"Yeah, loser takes their shirt off!" Chase said, grinning.

House raised his eyebrows. This should be interesting.

Cameron was tipping in every different direction, and Remy's face was flushed to an extraordinary extent. Her hair recoiled wildly against her face as she threw another shot back. A drop of tequila trickled down her neck and got lost beneath the confines of her white button-up. Her sleeves were rolled up to her fore-arms.

House had to admit, it was incredibly hot.

Cameron moaned and leaned back against the counter. "I'm done…" She muttered.

"NO!" Chase pleaded, running to her side to egg her on.

Remy smiled, satisfied, as cheers went up around her. She won.

"Take off your shirt!" Foreman slurred from behind Cameron.

Cameron grinned stupidly- she was already drunk enough. She whipped off her blouse and flung it at Chase, revealing a pink bra adorned with lace trim.

Cheers and babe-whistles abounded.

"That's gonna hurt tomorrow," House said behind Remy.

Thirteen stared at Cameron. "Yeah, now she knows not to challenge me. Alcohol is my bitch."

House put a hand on Remy's shoulder to guide her out of the mob. "Oh yes, because you definitely say things like that when you're sober."

They exited just as Cameron started dancing in her bra. _Well, at least she looks happy…_ Chase reasoned.

Thirteen stumbled and clung onto House's arm.

"Whoa, I can't even walk on my own. I'm not your personal cane."

Remy giggled and stared up at House.

The second she let go of him, she toppled to the ground.

"Shit!" She yelled.

"Are you ok?" House muttered, pulling her back up.

Remy only laughed in response. She didn't cease her laughter even when they reached the parking lot.

He sighed, and for lack of a better option, lifted a drunken Remy onto his motorcycle. He couldn't just leave her with her equally intoxicated coworkers and a topless, horny Cameron. Who knows what would happen.

House climbed on and instructed for Thirteen to "hold on, unless you have a death wish."

Remy leaned against House's back gratefully as they rode to his apartment. (He asked her several times where she lived, but in her inebriated state, she simply laughed in response and whispered nonsense to herself.)

House even had the decency to sling the girl's arm around his shoulder in an attempt to help her to his apartment. A few people stared at him in the lobby.

"Don't worry, it's not date rape!" He assured them.

When they got inside, he helped her onto his couch.

"I hope you're happy," He said, putting a blanket on Remy, "I didn't even have a chance to get plastered and vomit on Wilson. You owe me."

"Wait, wait" she cried, before House could walk away.

"You're kinda sexy." She giggled.

House tilted his head. "Why thank you. That's good blackmail for tomorrow. Good night."

House found he had a hard time attempting to sleep knowing a drunken Remy Hadley was lying on his couch. Until he heard encumbered footsteps trudging to his bedroom.

"What now," He sighed.

A shadow loomed in the doorway. "I can't sleep. Your couch is lumpy. And icky."

"…And my bed would be less _icky_?" House asked.

"Yeah." Thirteen waited for an invitation. She received silence. She took this as an 'ok' and stumbled to his bed.

After continuous bouts of school-girl giggling for a few minutes, Remy did the last thing House expected. She started crying.

House sat up to look at her shadowy figure rock back and forth beside him.

"Uhh…" He started.

Thirteen only began to cry harder. She fell into House's arms and sobbed uncontrollably. "Sometimes I don't want to die." She choked.

"No, really?" House asked sarcastically. She continued to bawl and he realized that probably wasn't helping. He held her closer and wondered how he had gotten in this postion.

"Sometimes I wish I was dead though," Remy whispered.

The simplicity of her drunken statements reminded House somewhat of a suicidal 4-year-old, but he could feel her pain. He felt it clearly through the tears that soaked his shirt. He wanted to ask her about it, but before he knew it, her cries had fallen to the lure of sleep. He held her, fearful and wishing to chase away her pain and his own. He didn't sleep once that night.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Oh wow I got a lot more support after that last chapter…I particularly liked that one. If you like House and Thirteen together, you can also check out my other story called Novacaine For The Soul. Thanks to everyone and keep reading and reviewing!

Disclaimer: Don't own House, but my new year's resolution is to abduct him.

_Wake up_, Whispered a voice in Remy Hadley's head.

_Wake up, _it echoed, growing increasingly louder.

It was the voice of an angel- so sweet and comforting in her mind.

She felt the grasp of sleep against her shoulders, begging her to remain unconscious.

"WAKE UP!" House yelled again. He shook Thirteen's shoulders more forcefully.

Her eyes fluttered open. The first thing Remy noticed when she awoke was House's anxious face only inches from hers.

"You're lucky I'm a doctor," He said, shaking his head, "anyone else would have thought you were dead."

Thirteen let her head fall back on the pillow- the second thing she noticed was an incomparable headache. The room was spinning right before her eyes, and every muscle in her body begged for stillness.

She moaned in agony and shielded her eyes from the penetrating sunlight.

"Psh. Just last night you told me alcohol was your 'bitch'," House chuckled, getting up and handing the girl a glass of water.

In an attempt to drink it, she ended up spilling half of its contents on House's sheets.

"What happened last night?" She choked.

"Well you and Cameron had a drinking competition- lucky for you; Cameron was the one who had to whip off her shirt. Thank you for that, by the way," He added, grinning.

Thirteen ignored his implications and pressed further. "What happened after?"

"Well," House continued, "You were tripping all over the place. Being the kind and caring soul I am, I brought you back to my apartment where you threw me to the ground and we had wild sex until the wee morning hours."

"You wish," Remy replied, sipping the water.

"You don't believe me?" House inquired mischievously.

"If we _did_ have crazy floor-sex, you would have bruises all over. I'm pretty rough," Remy whispered seductively, her mouth turning up in a smirk. "So come here."

House limped over to her obediently, hoping that maybe she would take the initiative to throw him to the ground right then and there. Instead, she took his arm and examined it carefully, running her fingers lightly across his rough skin and tracing invisible lines.

"Nope, sorry. You seem to be alright. Unless you want to take off your shirt so I can check again?"

"How about _you_ take off your shirt," House declared. "If anybody has battle wounds, it would be you."

"I assure you, I can take a hit. What time is it?" Remy asked, effectively altering the topic of conversation.

House tilted his head- Was she _for real_?

"It's after 7. You're going to be late…I'm going to be early. That is, if you're going to work. You look like hell," House stated flatly.

Thirteen glared. House didn't actually think she looked like hell; Remy's hair was tousled and messy, her make-up was smeared but somehow achieved the worn-in look that many women strove to recreate intentionally. Her white button-up was twisted and scrunched so that her bra and a fair amount of hidden skin peeked out (but who was House to complain?). When she glared at him it only succeeded in more hotness, and her boss had to keep his emotions (and penis) in check so that he wouldn't do anything irrational.

"Of course I'm going to work… unless you want me stalking around your apartment all day."

House made an irked expression and shrugged in response.

"Besides," Remy snorted, "it's not like I've never been hung over before. You underestimate my resilience."

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, but the second she stood, her legs gave way and she crumbled to the ground.

House wasn't in proximity to assist her, so he watched her stagger back up and trudge out of the room.

"That proves it…?" House asked sarcastically.

"Whatever. I'm fine." Remy yelled over her shoulder. Her voice was rough and it cracked considerably.

After a moments hesitation, House called , "Shower's last door on the left."

Remy didn't respond, as if in silently stubborn. _"I don't __**need**__ a shower."_ The emptiness seemed to say. But Remy gave in and within a minute, House heard the sound of a shower flowing.

Greg began to make breakfast, then decided it was too much hassle and figured he could stop at McDonald's on the way to work. They would have ample time- after all, it was incredibly early for him.

He appreciated the fact that his coworker was in his shower. While mulling over this turn of events, a scream emitted from the bathroom.

A few squeaks sounded from the pipes, then another scream erupted, louder still.

Thirteen flew out of the bathroom, her slim body haphazardly wrapped in a towel.

House did a double-take, then his eyes widened to an unreal extent.

"What the hell is wrong with your water?" Remy yelled. She ran into the kitchen, holding up her scarce towel.

House managed to refocus himself and answer: "There's something wrong with it. It's scorching."

"And you didn't tell me this because… You wanted to embarrass me? You wanted a reaction?" A fire burned in Remy's eyes as water trickled down her body and onto House's kitchen floor.

He felt an ounce of shame…guilt? But he didn't respond as he returned her gaze.

She shook her head disbelievingly and stormed out of the room. Her dripping hair left a trail behind her.

House sighed and limped back to him room. As he passed the bathroom, he heard shuffling and slight grumbling. Thirteen showed a lot more emotion after a decent hangover, he discovered.

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House had been standing outside the bathroom door, engaging in a patient vigil for a half hour. As soon as an irritated Remy Hadley emerged, rewarding her boss with a searing glare, he rolled his eyes and tossed her the helmet to his motorcycle.

"We're stopping for food on the way. It's on me." He said flatly.

She watched him limp out the door. Was that his way of apologizing? A fast-food pit stop and willingly driving her to work?

_Impressive,_ she decided, smiling. She would have let it go soon enough, but House was willing to cooperate, afraid that she was really pissed. That was just perfect in her opinion: it wasn't fake or forced.

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Needless to say, Remy and House got a series of stares and whispers as the entered PPTH together, carrying 2 bags of McDonald's for breakfast.

Thirteen kept her hands loosely in her pockets: calm, collected, and secretly satisfied.

House kept stride with his companion, ignoring the looks and conversation surrounding them. No doubt, this would fuel the gossip mill. Wilson squinted: was he imagining things? He gave House a look that said _What the hell!?_ and House gave him a brief wave, with a grin.

When they entered the conference room, they were greeted with glares from a brutally hung-over team, along with a humiliated Cameron and Chase.

"Why are you wearing the same outfit you had on yesterday?" Chase asked Thirteen groggily.

She quickly realized her mistake and put on a lab coat. She didn't offer him an answer.

"And why did you two come into work together?" Foreman asked suspiciously.

House handed Remy the bag of breakfast and decided to answer Foreman with: "After seeing Cam get down and dirty in the bar, Thirteen got horny and spiked my drink. Then she dragged me back to the apartment and… well you know the rest."

Cameron narrowed her eyes at House. "You got the pictures didn't you?"

"Actually, I didn't. But since you mentioned it, do tell."

Chase smirked, forgetting about his previous concerns. "Somebody got pictures of Cameron last night drunk and topless and they're sending them around. Not to mention videos of Foreman's karaoke version of 'I feel like a woman'."

"What?!" Foreman spat, whipping his head around to face Chase.

Kutner stifled a laugh while the 3 former team members accused each other and squabbled.

House whispered from behind Remy: "They weren't like this when they worked for _me_."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Oh wow thank you so much for reviewing and alerting and such. It makes me happy ) So keep reading and enjoying.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Cameron swore under her breath as she ravaged the papers on house's desk. Finally, she found his cell phone under a stack of patient charts and dusty clinic files. She had a sneaking suspicion that House had actually been the one who took the picture of her topless and sent it around, so she was determined to check and see if she was right.

_He's the only one I know who would sink that low_. She figured.

The blonde flipped open his phone, when she heard a familiar voice in the conference room, approaching House's office.

"You know Wilson; I just do these things for your reaction. It's always priceless."

Without a second thought, Cameron dove into the closet and shut the door.

Within seconds, House entered his office with Wilson in tow. Cameron watched them anxiously through the crack in the closet door.

"The fact that you helped her yesterday shows something, House," Wilson sighed. "That whole caring thing? Its not you."

"Thanks. Always good to hear from my friend."

"I'm serious!" Wilson said, his voice elevating. "This isn't just another Cameron we're talking about here."

Cameron tensed inside the closet. _Who are they talking about?_

"You're right. It's Remy," House stated flatly.

_Remy? Who the hell is that? Maybe a nurse? Someone outside the hospital?_ [Cameron doesn't know Thirteen's real name.

"Well, you obviously have feelings for her. I know you well enough to say that confidently." Wilson continued.

House opened his mouth to retort, but his friend continued, "And don't try to tell me you just want to jump her- you had various chances to have sex with her, but you didn't."

Cameron was shocked in the impeding darkness. _Maybe this woman was somebody he met at the bar yesterday? Is that plausible?_

"Think what you want, Jimmy." House replied, unfazed.

"So…" Wilson lowered his voice, "What are you going to say to Thirteen? She clearly likes you. Other people don't deal with your crap," He said, grinning.

Cameron's eyes widened- _So Thirteen had feelings for House, but House loved someone else, and now he had to break the news?_ Cameron assumed. Unfortunately, she had misunderstood the entire discussion and jumped to conclusions.

She waited until both House and his companion left the office before returning his phone to the desk (forgetting about the picture) and racing through the hallways in search of Thirteen. House was looking for Remy too.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Allison Cameron caught up with Remy Hadley before House did.

"Oh, Thirteen, can we talk?" She asked hurriedly.

"Uh…sure," Remy replied, startled. Surely Cameron didn't think she was the one who took the humiliating photo?

The older woman led Thirteen into the nearest supply closet and shut the door behind them.

"I'm just going to cut to the chase," Cameron said grimly. "I overheard House and Wilson talking today... and although you might have feelings for your boss, he loves another woman. House isn't usually open about these things, but Wilson even knows that he cares for her. He was trying to find a way to explain it to you."

Remy just stared at Cameron, her eyes blank with astonishment.

"Don't feel bad- really," the blonde assured, putting a hand on Remy's shoulder. "I used to love House too…but you can get over it. I did." She gave her a parting smile and left the closet.

"Take care," Cameron added before the door shut.

A speechless and confused Thirteen rushed out of the supply closet. _Did House really just send Cameron to communicate with me? So House had just assumed that I had feelings for him (even though I might have) and sent a messenger to…'break up' with me?! He didn't even have the guts to confront me on his own?_

Remy could list so many things about what Cameron had just done that made her completely lose her respect, or any feelings she had for House. That was by far the most insensitive thing she could have done.

Her fury was interrupted when she spotted House limping toward her in the hall.

She managed to maintain her anger- she wasn't giving House the benefit of seeing her lose control.

"So, you couldn't tell me how you feel on your own? I wouldn't have thought that the prospect of a girl would scare you."

The man wrinkled his brow as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

"What the hell? Are you still pissed off about the shower thing? Because I-"

"Don't be a jackass," Remy hissed, "I shouldn't have ever thought I meant anything to you, but I deserve better than your pity or your mockery."

"Is it that time of the month?" House growled, increasingly angered and equally confused.

Remy stabbed daggers at House with her glare. "Tell Cuddy I'll send my letter of resignation."

"You're _quitting_?" House yelled.

Remy turned and stormed off without another look.

_Has everyone gone __**mad**_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Wilson threw the pen down at the nurse's station. The day was not progressing pleasantly. House was beyond upset about Thirteen quitting. He had absolutely no idea what had compelled her to suddenly hate him, and he was taking his frustration out on everyone else; mainly Wilson and his new team.

Wilson was not impressed with Remy. House was finally ready to admit his feelings for her, and she quits? It didn't make any sense. He felt bad for his friend, who was hurting significantly.

"Wilson?" A voice whispered.

He turned to see Cameron standing beside him, worriedly.

"Are you alright?"

"No," he admitted. He trusted the young women, and he decided she might be able to calm House down. "Ok, Cameron, House and Remy were just starting to get close to each other. House was willing to talk to her about it- like a normal person would, but for some reason she blew up at him and quit her job. Now House is furious and confused…and he's in pain. He doesn't take the initiative to divulge his emotions unless he's serious about them. He was serious about her. I just don't understand…" Wilson shook his head solemnly.

Cameron gaped at him.

"Wait…Thirteen…her name is Remy? And House has feelings for _her_?"

Wilson raised an eyebrow. "Yes, that's what I said. You can't go around telling people though."

Cameron shot down the hallway, now in search of House. _I just made a huge mistake._


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Oh wow thank you guys so much for all the reviews! Maybe if I get enough support I will write a sequel to my other House/Thirteen story, **Novacaine For The Soul**. So Read that one too and tell me what you think. [Thanks to Darktelepath for the idea )

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own them. I'm issuing a warrant as we speak.

House relented as he approached Remy Hadley's apartment door. Cameron had explained her mistake to him; he had been upset, but there were more crucial issues than mouthing off at Cameron.

He knocked on the door reluctantly and thought, _What have I gotten myself into? I haven't even known this girl for long, and I'm tearing myself apart whenever I make an idiotic mistake._

To House's surprise, Thirteen actually opened the door. She didn't utter a word when she saw him.

"I know you're pissed off, but you need to listen to me." House stated with authority.

"Cameron was eavesdropping on me and Wilson and she thought when we were…talking about you, that we were talking about another woman. And it was just too much for her insignificant little mind to handle and she twisted the story and things got blown out of proportion." House rattled off. For once; he couldn't seem to find a way to justify himself.

Thirteen crossed her arms but remained standing in the doorway. The unimposing hatred had drained from her eyes but she still looked hurt and confused on closer inspection.

"I don't know what else to tell you. If you choose not to believe me then you can quit and just forget everything. But I did…have feelings for you, I guess." House muttered, avoiding Remy's eyes.

"I'm supposed to buy that you came here on your own free will, without Cuddy forcing you? That you're not just here because you can't face the consequences of losing another member of your team?" Remy asked, insulted.

"Why don't you trust me?" House yelled. "You think everyone is out to get you- everyone has a hidden motive- why can't you just accept that I care about you!"

He exhaled heavily as the hallway grew deathly silent.

"Because…" Thirteen replied softly, "I'm like you."

House froze and stared at her._ Am I really like that?_

He shook the consideration away and stared her down. "Do you need convincing?" House hissed.

Remy's eyes questioned him.

Before she knew it, he had her up against the door frame, his mouth on hers. He fervently and effectively gave her all the convincing she needed.

"Do you believe me now?" He whispered into her hair.

Remy looked up at the ceiling: "Well…"

Their lips collided once more, along with a rough hand sliding up the side of her shirt and caressing skin with the most painfully delicate of touches. Remy stifled a gasp and gripped his shoulders. "Ok, I believe you." She smiled.

They immobilized in the compromising position when the door across the hall squeaked open.

"Could you kids keep it down?" The woman said in irritation.

"Sorry," Remy said, blushing slightly.

"I apologize, I can't control this one," House sighed, unlatching himself from Remy.

The woman sent them both a glare before heading back into her own apartment.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The couple lounged on Remy's couch while watching bad reality TV. House made fun of the lunatics on the shows, and Thirteen contributed her own remarks. They mingled in sarcasm, laughter, and delivery pizza.

Her phone rang during a commercial, and she reluctantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hadley? It's Lawrence Kutner," Said a nervous voice on the other line.

"Oh hey, what's up," Remy replied dully.

"Who is it?" House inquired, leaning over.

She whispered "Kutner" and continued with her conversation.

"Well, I know you didn't have the best day," Kutner said, coughing ineffectively, "But I was wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks with some of us from the hospital."

House watched her listening intently, and decided to perform an experiment.

"Drinks?" Thirteen asked distantly. "Uh…" She idled as House pressed his body against hers and began to kiss her neck slowly. She glared at him, but inwardly she couldn't resist his touch.

"Yeah, around, like, 8 o' clock… Taub, Foreman, Wilson, and Chase are coming. I don't know about Cameron- especially after the last fiasco she had."

House slid down the strap of Remy's tank top and bit her shoulder slightly.

"Oh my god." She murmured into the phone.

"What?"

"8 o' clock? Yeah I'll probably come."

His arm extended across the other side of the couch to reach the lamp and turn it off. The room became pitch black.

"Fuck!" Thirteen said as the lights went out.

"Excuse me?" A puzzled Kutner replied.

"Oh nothing, I think a light bulb just went out." A pair of strong arms wrapped around her small waist and she was pulled effortlessly onto a warm lap.

"I gotta go Kutner."

"What, are you in your bedroom with House?" He joked.

"Oh yeah definitely," She laughed.

Fingers pried Remy's hand from the phone. It dropped to the ground with a dull thud and rolled under the table, where it would soon be forgotten.

Remy found the lips she had been searching for and kissed House again.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you again for reviewing! It makes me really happy. If you have any ideas for the story please let me know, and keep reading and reviewing.

"What are you, a tree-hugger?" House grimaced as he and Remy stepped into the bitter winter air. Snow was descending rapidly, a fresh sheet already littering the ground. The cold cut mercilessly against Remy's flushed face, but she didn't seem to notice or mind. House felt the flesh of his tattered leg sting, but then succumb to a comforting numbness as they began to progress down the white-ashen sidewalk.

"No… I always walk to this bar. It's only a few minutes away." Thirteen replied.

House thought she looked so serene and at peace in the light glow of a flickering street light. The road was unusually quiet, and the world was silent in its snowy state. The wind sent flecks of precipitation into Remy's auburn hair. She appeared cherubic in the seconds that ticked away, walking along the deserted street.

"You're just trying to kill me, aren't you?" House smirked, returning his gaze in front of him.

"You're barely limping. Don't be infantile," Thirteen replied.

She finally looked up at him. Alone with the only person she'd allowed herself to open up to in a powdery, vacant, almost dreamlike scene; Remy looked more like a child and less like an empty and soulless cadaver than ever before.

She smiled. It was sincere and beautiful, and House could feel himself melting from the inside out.

"Are you cold?" She asked quietly, reaching up to touch his face.

"What kind of question is that? It's absolutely freezing. Of course I'm cold." House had tried to achieve a condescending effect, but he was too distracted by the woman in front of him. Strange, sarcasm didn't seem nearly as convincing in the face of love.

House enveloped Remy and kissed her feverishly. Her lips were smoldering against his; icy.

After a few moments of bliss, she broke away, and continued forward.

House raised an eyebrow at her retreating form and followed her.

"Having doubts?" He asked, slightly fearful of the answer.

"No. You're the one thing I'm sure of."

He looked at her, and sure enough, her eyes matched his gaze in complete seriousness.

"Really. If you were Cameron you would have already set boundaries, cleared up all the terms, written up a contract…"

"Well I'm not Cameron," Remy stated as the bar came into sight. "I don't need to have plans, especially when I could be dead in a few weeks, a few months…"

"That's not a very bright outlook."

"Because _you_ have such a bright outlook on life?" Remy smirked.

They were quiet in closing the distance to the door of the bar. When House glanced back at her, her eyes were hollow.

Upon entering, the pair was spotted by Kutner, Wilson, Cameron, Chase, Foreman, and Taub, who were sitting at a large circular table, downing alcohol shamelessly.

Cameron appeared cautious after the last incident with drinking.

Remy sat at a barstool, returning the waves of her coworkers. They looked so…friendly and comforting. The prospect of their companionship lured her. She ordered a drink and waited idly.

Wilson approached House confidently.

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on with you and Thirteen? It's not every day that you willingly go to bars with people, or leave work to visit their Houses…"

"Wow, you're getting pretty observant Jimmy," House exclaimed. "I must be rubbing off on you."

House casually explained everything that had happened with him and Remy while Wilson's jaw dropped incredulously.

From across the bar, House spotted a young, and inebriated young man sling his arm over Remy's shoulder and lean in a bit too close for comfort. He scowled, leaving Wilson astounded to confront the man.

Thirteen was glaring at the guy, then shoved him off the bar stool when he persisted, so House didn't have to intervene.

"Get lost," he informed him protectively.

The man cowered under House's brutal stare and scampered out of the bar.

"I've dealt with my share of drunken idiots. I can take care of myself," Remy informed House as he sat beside her.

"You're welcome," He replied, grinning.

She smiled inwardly and turned her attention to her drink.

After a while, they decided to sit with their coworkers, Wilson staring at them disbelievingly all the while. House maintained his gruff disposition, while Remy remained distant, but slightly more light-hearted than usual.

Kutner told daring tales of his youth while Chase challenged him. The two had become good friends, but generally everyone took a liking to the youngest of the new ducklings.

The group remained at the table as the night went on, finding a strange kind of harmony in each other. Even House let a few grins slip by, and accentuated the conversation with some light mocking and teasing.

The bartender approached the doctors after everyone else had left and the drinks had dwindled down into glassy puddles on the bottom of glasses.

"We're closing up now, sorry guys."

A few things happened at once when they reached for the doorknob. The door didn't open; "Shit, I think its frozen shut."

Then the lights went out.

"Oh no…not again."

"You've got to be kidding me."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Woot I love it when you guys review. Thanks so much. I got a request to focus on more characters in this chapter, so the gang will get some more face time. You guys seemed pretty excited about the whole stuck idea…and trust me, I'm not going to make it clichéd like some other fanfics do. (Also, I didn't mean it to sound like a Taub-bashing, but I needed to use it. He's just being honest.) R AND R!

The bartender haphazardly set up a series of candles around the bar. The glimmered against windowless walls and cast shadows throughout. The doctors of PPTH sat at the previous circular table, huddled together around a ring of partially filled glasses and scattered bottles of alcohol.

The bartender had informed them that the door was frozen shut and the power was out- needless to say, they wouldn't be able to travel in the treacherous snow storm anyway.

"Well isn't this fabulous," House snorted, taking a swig of his drink. "There's no way I'd rather spend my night."

"It's not like the rest of us are particularly thrilled either," Foreman replied irritably.

"You know what…I love you guys," Cameron slurred, a wide grin on her face.

"How did she go from horny to sentimental?" Chase muttered.

Kutner mumbled something unintelligible, then his head fell to the table. He began to snore.

"One down…" House observed.

"I miss you." Cameron whispered. Every head shot to Cameron. She was gazing longingly and desperately at Chase next to her.

"Uh…" He paused when she grabbed his arm and continued to stare.

"Why was I so stupid? I'm so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid…"

She shook her head vigorously, her eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"You were there all along. But I didn't see it."

Chase didn't blink as he locked eyes with her.

"I love you. I still love you," Cameron gasped, clinging onto him for dear life. She proceeded to grasp his face and slam her mouth against his. Chase fell out of his chair and onto the floor, taking her with him.

"Dear god…" Wilson muttered, sliding his chair away.

"Eh, we all knew it was gonna happen- again," House said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "If we're stuck here we might as well get a free show," He added, glancing down at the floor where Cameron was attempting to tear off Chase's shirt while he detained her hands.

Taub finally spoke, his eyes frantic and his hair splayed every which way.

"As long as we're doing the whole confessions shit, I'm in love with a woman from my old job, who I drove away and will never see again."

Everyone stared at the former plastic surgeon.

"Biggest fucking mistake of my life."

Taub laughed bitterly and eyed each of his coworkers in turn.

"Luckily, my wife is shallow and heartless enough to neither care nor confront me about it. I'm hardly making any money anymore, everyone seems to hate me, and I'm subject to your abuse every day, you bastard," Taub added, gesturing loosely to House.

House tilted his head, unfazed. "I knew it."

But to everyone's shock, Taub turned sloppily toward Remy Hadley.

"You. Working with you pisses me off the most. Everything just flies by you. You don't have a care in this whole goddamn world," He slurred, throwing his glass onto the table. It cracked down the middle and tipped over onto its side.

Remy tensed in her seat, but did not make any obvious reaction. House watched her eyes turned stone-cold, wondering if he should intervene.

"You're attractive, you must be smart- you don't touch conflict with a ten-foot pool. What's your problem? Exactly, you don't have one," Taub snarled, having a conversation seemingly with himself.

"I bet the only thing you have to freak out about is which shirt to wear to work or which button is too revealing."

Remy stared at the infuriated man and remained immobilized. She remembered the tough decision to leave that extra button undone on her first day of work. She folded.

House watched her shoot out of her seat and head briskly for the ladies' room. Then the bar was completely silent. Cameron and Chase had halted their fervent make-out session and had watched the exchange. They sat motionless on the cold floor, hands clamped together. Kutner had ceased his snoring. Wilson was overwhelmed by everyone's drunken rants and was gaping openly, but aloof from the occupants of the table. Foreman had followed him, afraid of another outburst.

House felt himself beginning to react. He was suddenly appalled and furious at Taub. He longed to rectify Remy's situation; to stand up for her. He wanted to save her. But House didn't know how to go about it. He ignored his concerns that Thirteen would not want him telling her secret.

House swiftly left his seat, without so much as a word, hoisted up a stumbling Taub, and pinned him to the wall with his cane.

"You think you know everything you condescending son of a bitch?" He hissed venomously. "Her mom died of Huntington's Disease. She has a half and half chance of having it to…You know what that means, smartass? You have to deal with the first real thing you've ever felt, but that's because you screwed it up. You did yourself in. She wakes up every day wondering if its time for her life to slip away and lose her self control, while you wake up wondering how to get rid of that morning wood."

Taub gagged until House relented, dropping the cane from his throat.

He gave Taub one last threat before pursuing Remy: "You aren't allowed to demean her. Not about something and someone you don't know shit about. Don't you _dare _patronize her."

House's icy blue eyes melted in a fiery and passionate blaze, challenging Taub until he backed down, turning away.

Remy was sitting on the bathroom floor, knees brought up against her chest. Her eyes were directed blankly ahead, identifying nothing in particular. She made no notice of House as he entered and sat down beside her uneasily.

"It's Okay," She whispered, somehow knowing that he'd told them about her potential ailment.

House turned his attention to the blank space in front of them. He thought he would have been pleased that Remy wasn't mad at him, but he was even more upset now. If he had pissed her off, at least he could blame himself, but now he didn't really know who to blame for Remy's morose demeanor and all the pain she kept private…Maybe she didn't know either.

He attached his hand to hers. "Don't blame yourself."

She finally looked at him. Her eyes filled with tears and they spilled over without resistance. Remy couldn't even remember the last time she let herself cry, especially in front of others. She coughed, gasped, and bawled until her eyes felt sore and the tears dried on her face. House sat beside her all the while, wordlessly.

She sniffled, then began to cry again, less catastrophically.

After what might have been an hour, she was silent.

"You're staying with me by the way, unless you don't appreciate my malfunctioning shower and abundant bed."

"You won't give me much of a choice will you?" She asked weakly.

"I'll make sure you won't cry anymore. Not good for business."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his upper arm. They were quiet for the remainder of the night. They heard nothing from outside the bathroom.


	10. Chapter 10

The invitation sat, lonely on House's desk. It was simple and traditional enough- a white textured card with gold embellishments. The font was a surreal kind of script that read the standard: _You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Robert Chase & Allison Cameron._

The details littered the bottom of the card.

Cameron entered his office, slightly bashful.

"He really wants to seal the deal before you decide to leave him again," House observed.

Cameron frowned.

"We were engaged before we broke up, so we figured we might as well do it when we have a chance."

She approached his desk, "I'm not changing my mind. I've made my decision, and I love Robert."

"Whatever," House replied, shrugging. "At least you can justify it when he gets you knocked up soon."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I though that with your new girlfriend, you would at least have an ounce of compassion for this kind of thing."

"New girlfriend? Is this something I should know about?"

"Remy Hadley."

"Who's that?"

"House, don't be juvenile."

"She's not my girlfriend," He muttered, folding his invitation into a paper airplane.

"You haven't asked her out? You haven't even established a relationship? What the hell are you doing?" Cameron chided, crossing her arms.

"She's not you. She doesn't try to label our…situation."

"Is it just about sex?" Cameron smirked, lowering her voice.

"Everything's about sex with you, Cameron!" He yelled, loud enough so that his team in the conference room turned to stare through the glass divider.

"Well, regardless, everyone saw what you did last night."

"You mean confess my love for Chase then maul him to the ground? Oh wait…you did that."

Cameron flushed slightly but continued. "You stood up for her. You almost killed Taub in the process too. So, you obviously really like her. Or you love her."

"Why are you tormenting me? Don't you have a wedding to plan or a fiancé to screw?"

Cameron grinned and began walking toward the conference room.

"It's all gonna come out sooner or later. You can't keep your feelings hidden forever."

House followed her in the adjoining room and advanced on the white board.

"Symptoms." He declared loudly.

Wilson, Chase, Cameron, Thirteen, Kutner, and a Taub (with his neck wrapped) turned to watch House.

"Rash decision-making, increasing annoyingness, assumed ability to dictate and understand people's lives," House read them off as he wrote them down.

"Diagnosis? **Whipped**…" He circled the word, "Or utterly **desperate**."

The occupants of the room stared at him. "Patient: Allison Cameron," He stated.

Cameron glared at him before turning to everyone else.

"Did everyone get an invitation to the wedding?"

They each nodded and murmured their thanks.

Cameron explained the plans while House's mind wandered. He watched Remy frown at the invitation, a look of dismay on her face.

Love seemed like a distant cry. House was pretty sure Remy was serious about him, but it was always hard to decipher. He could barely even get her to open up to him, so he couldn't just do something as irrational as telling her he loved her.

He remembered only saying it to Stacy. She had kept pestering him about it: _Do you love me? I need to know._

After a while he gave in: _Yeah, I love you._

He didn't find the phrase particularly necessary- if a relationship was going well, why was there such a need to qualify everything? It didn't really make sense to him.

Remy glanced up and caught House staring at her. She didn't look away and neither did he. Her eyes seemed to dance before him.

"Well, I'm going to eat some lunch," House interrupted Cameron's speech, heading for the door.

"You just got to work!" She growled in irritation.

"Even better."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House heard the door of his apartment click and open. He turned his head from his position on the couch to see Remy standing at the door. She looked exhausted.

"Hey," He greeted as she went approached the couch.

"We were testing in the lab all night until something finally came up positive."

He acknowledged the clock- it was almost 1 in the morning.

Remy sat beside him without a moment's hesitation and swung her legs over his lap. She angled her body against him and closed her eyes. She felt his body stiffen for a second before he held her.

It was weird- Remy always expected that every next time they were physical, he would throw her off of him. But they always seemed to have a wordless communication that fit well. Neither was one for speeches and gushing confessions, so they could simply tell each other all they needed with a look or expression. It prevented House from sarcasm or anything potentially hurtful while it prevented Remy from hiding or covering up. It was hard for her eyes to lie to him anymore.

"Planning on attending the wedding of the century?" House asked her.

"Why would I give up the opportunity to watch something crash and burn?" She smiled against his chest.

"Are we going together? Because I don't have a car and I might get shot if I ride around with my motorcycle in a tux… not to mention the helmet hair…"

Remy was silent. She could feel the implications of his inquiry, and it wasn't just a question of getting a ride. It was more.

"Yeah…together," She answered assuredly.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I was really disappointed that I barely got any reviews lately. :'( So I don't feel very motivated but I'm dedicated to my story and will go on. Sniff. It probably won't be too much longer, so expect a finale soon.

"White isn't your best color," House stated, intruding into Cameron's dressing room.

The bride spun to face him, her veil floating along behind her.

"You're not supposed to be in here," She scolded.

"Well, I thought I would kindly congratulate you now so I don't have to later," House explained, stepping across the threshold of space that usually separated them both.

Cameron smiled, then stepped forward to hug him.

House thought about recoiling, but decided better of it. After all, it was Cameron's wedding day. He could let a few things slip.

"Er…you don't want to wrinkle your dress. God forbid it results in even more crying," House mumbled, detaching himself.

"Go back to Hadley," Cameron instructed, facing the full-length mirror to adjust her long white dress and cascading curls.

Remy sat beside Wilson on the church pew. Cameron, as an atheist, had protested the prospect of a ceremony in a church, but let Chase have his way regardless. The bridesmaids were composed of Cameron's close female relatives and friends (none of who worked in PPTH) as were the groomsmen (but Foreman was one too).

Robert Chase looked slightly nervous, but mostly content. His equally attractive groomsmen stood confidently, awaiting the bride.

Wilson looked over at Remy. It really didn't make any sense. She was donning a short light blue dress and pearl earrings. Her beauty was somewhat unearthly, and it unnerved him. How was it that House had all these stunning women falling all over him while he paid simultaneous alimonies and struggled to get a date? It wasn't fair, Wilson thought as he shook his head.

"Do you know where House is?" Wilson asked Thirteen.

She turn toward him slowly. "No. He hasn't been gone that long though."

"He's probably causing trouble: setting something on fire, spiking drinks…" Wilson muttered.

Remy shook her head slightly. "He would never admit it but he has more respect for Cameron than to ruin her Wedding Day."

Wilson stared at the young woman. Her eyes twinkled upon mentioning House, an internal sort of understanding and laughter inside her. "Her honeymoon, on the other hand…" She trailed off, grinning.

Wilson chuckled, considering the possibilities. After a few moments of silence he turned back to face her and met her gaze directly.

"You seem to get House."

She didn't avoid his eyes. "I don't, really. He's strange. I just deal with things and people strangely too. I don't really know what we have, but whatever it is, it works."

Wilson could see she was being sincere. "Doing better than Cameron…" He muttered absently.

She frowned. "Why does everyone feel compelled to compare me with Cameron? Is that all I am? Another version of her?"

Wilson's pulse grew rapid. "Oh no, I didn't mean any disrespect. If I know one thing for certain, it's that House loves you for _you_. Nobody wants to see him end up in another sort of Stacy situation though."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "'Loves me'?"

Wilson wrung his hands in his lap, searching for a way to backtrack. House was going to murder him.

The echoes of "Here comes the bride" radiated from the church organ. House entered through a side door, pushing Wilson out of his seat and remaining between him and Remy.

"Good timing," She whispered to House.

"I was busy tracking down a runaway bride- you should be thanking me," he whispered back.

"Cameron didn't run away," Thirteen deadpanned, turning her attention to the double doors.

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

House stared. He really didn't understand her completely, but he felt comfortable anyway. They had a mismatched sort of unity that only two impenetrable misfits can achieve when they finally come together.

He continued to watch her, even as Cameron progressed down the aisle.

"The wombat's so excited that he's going to wet himself," House muttered.

Wilson shot him a dirty look while the corner of Remy's mouth curled up against her will.

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The reception was conventional enough: in a restaurant with a homey and personable ambience. It was only the afternoon, but winter's merciless schedule forced the sun out of the sky and enveloped it in a dark cloak of night. Candles cast light around the rustic space, washing Cameron's tears of joy in plasmic oranges and golds as toasts were recited and cake was cut.

House sat beside Remy at a majestic wooden table. While people conversed around them, House downed his champagne.

"What do you think?" Remy pondered.

House instinctively understood her question and replied assuredly, "I give them a year. They're gonna break up and get back together- god knows how many times."

"Ah, young love," Thirteen sighed sarcastically, biting off a chunk of garlic bread.

When the dancing came along, House didn't get up or ask Remy to accompany him. She didn't pressure him, but sat next to him silently while the others occupants of the room glided in a mass.

Throughout the night, the couple remained within relative proximity of each other, avoiding confrontation with the exceedingly happy or overly talkative. Remy conversed with coworkers and acquaintances, amused as Wilson blatantly avoided her and House.

Sometimes she would catch House's eye across the crowded area and throw a soft smile his way, as if they shared a special secret that nobody else could get in on. He would nod back, grinning on occasion if he couldn't catch himself.

Near the end of the reception, House approached Remy. "A gift of shrimp," He said, holding his plate out to her. She grinned, taking a shrimp. "Have you been eating and attempting to get drunk this whole time? If I have to carry you home you can either be fat or wasted, not both."

"I'll keep that in mind," House replied, popping a shrimp into his mouth. He placed the remainder of the plate carefully on Wilson's chair cushion.

A herd of women migrated toward Cameron at the sound of "Bouquet".

Remy and House watched them incredulously as they squealed and jostled through the mob, itching to get hold of the prize token.

"You aren't planning on throwing yourself into the mosh pit?" House inquired.

Thirteen shook her head furiously. "You'll know I've completely lost all my dignity if I ever do."

"Whatever," House shrugged, "I'll find another way to get that dress ripped off."

Remy gazed up at House wordlessly.

He grinned mischievously, just as the bouquet hit him in the face.

"Shit!"

Some of the woman laughed, while others grumbled in defeat. House picked the now disheveled mass of flowers off the ground and attempted to remark. Nothing seemed quite coherent enough to say.

"I guess you're the lucky girl," Remy mocked, laughing.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: So here it is! The conclusion. Thank you to everyone for their unflagging support and love. Woot.

The door managed to find its way shut as the couple raced into the apartment, arms tangled around each other and lips using considerable force against one another. A few seconds of panting led to a white button-up ripped to the ground. A tie followed quickly.

Remy gasped as her back made contact with the wall. House pulled back when she grasped the back of his neck.

"Cut the shit," She whispered darkly, her eyes alight with passion. "Let's go."

"What's your hurry?" House asked throatily, inching anxious fingers up her thigh.

His trail stopped when a loud knock sounded at the door.

Remy refused to tear her gaze away from him and urged him on piercingly.

The knocks continued, growing increasingly louder.

"Dammit!" He exhaled, relinquishing Thirteen's grasp and answering the door.

"What do you want?" House yelled, his voice cracking as the door flew open.

Wilson backed off the side of the entrance abruptly, taking in House's shirtlessness. Remy was not far behind him, her hair disheveled and face flushed. Her arms crossed as she scrutinized the disruption.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything…" Wilson said, glancing back and forth between the two.

"Did you just come to make chit chat?" House growled.

Wilson shook his head and pulled his baggage into view. "My girlfriend kicked me out of my own apartment…I didn't know where else to go."

House groaned. There would be no sex tonight.

"Wilson's timing is less than on target," Remy sighed, pulling a t shirt over her head.

House exchanged his pants for plaid boxers. "The horny bastard was just itching for a threesome."

"He told me that you love me." Remy stated lightly.

It took a second for House to process this. It hovered thickly and tensely in the air between them, threatening to shatter into millions of pieces.

"But you knew that already" He answered cautiously.

Remy smiled brightly, giving all the answer he needed.

Before he could justify himself, the girl had left the room briskly.

_Well that went well…_ House thought, slightly humiliated.

When he entered the living room, House found Wilson and Remy conversing in hushed tones.

"Are you guys plotting against me? It won't be easy to throw a cripple over my balcony railing."

House sat down between Wilson and Remy, turning on the tv in the process.

He pretended to be interested in the program, but he felt awkward in between two people who finally realized he was completely capable of loving.

Remy didn't blink as images flashed across her face. A peaceful smile perched across her lips. She hardly seemed as uncomfortable as he was.

With a yawn, Wilson got up to head for his futon in the other room, leaving Remy and House alone with their silence. After a while, Remy turned off the tv.

"What-?" House stuttered.

She stood up in front of him. "We're going to play charades," She declared, a serious expression on her face.

"You're kidding right?" House laughed mockingly. "Here, I have one," He decided, lifting two fingers to point a figurative gun at his head.

"Watch," Remy instructed.

She pointed to her eye. House tilted his head. "Eye?"

She lowered her hand to his and lifted it gently onto her chest. The subdued thump of a heart reverberated through their combined hands. House's icy eyes melted, challenging her implications. She dropped his hand and pointed at him. "You".

"I love you." He said, grinning

"I love you." Remy whispered.

Wilson shook his head from his eavesdropping position. If he hadn't witnessed it, he never would have believed it.

"I like this game…we should play it more often," House muttered over Remy's lips.

"We already do," Remy replied softly.

The End.

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Yay! If you didn't get the whole charades thing, its parallel to House's and Remy's uncanny sense of silent communication. That's why I chose to have them say it the way I did. The ending isn't very monumental, but I think it fits. I loved working on this story- and look out for any new work on my part!


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